


unbreakable, untouchable - like diamond

by YaelaTheWordsmith



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Battle Wound, Commander Daichi, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Military AU, Princess Yachi, They're so in love I cry, captain kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaelaTheWordsmith/pseuds/YaelaTheWordsmith
Summary: In the lull of a battle, Tetsurou hurries to his commander's tent to find that he's been hit with a spell that's slowly killing him in a way he's never seen before. This is a story about what he sacrifices to save him, and a story about their love, and a story about turning grey to rainbows.This is a story about making it through.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	unbreakable, untouchable - like diamond

**Author's Note:**

> So I was reading Sir Pratchett's Thud! a couple days ago and Mr. Shine put his hand into the light and *BAM* inspiration hit me like a freight train  
> Why this particular inspiration? Why this particular story??? I'm sorry I have no clue  
> *shrug emoji* kurodai is part of me guys I just gotta accept it  
> Please enjoy!

Thunder boomed overhead, sullen and grumbling in a lead-grey sky. The rain drummed steadily and incessantly on canvas, bouncing in sluggish drops in the mud. Every sound was muffled, deadened, the world turned down to dull static.

In the sprawling camp, a tall figure in black hurried through slush and around sagging tent ropes.

He seemed to be the only one with a sense of purpose in the camp, apart from the healers, who looked out from their tents to yell briefly for more cotton, more water, more firewood that wasn’t soaked through. There were people to give it to them, and people to help the wounded to them, but for the most part . . . for the most part, the soldiers crouched gingerly just out of the rain and stared blankly at each other, blood drying on their skin, bones aching under the weight of their armour, waiting.

The tall man hurried through them all, almost slipping once or twice, and arrived at the biggest tent in the camp, set further back from the rest. When he ducked inside, he had the brief impression that it was so full of people that it might as well have been the basic issue tent of an infantryman. He shook his sodden hair out of his eyes and panted, “Well?”

There was a low cot on the right side of the tent. On the tiny folding table placed close to it, a handful of candles burned fitfully in a saucer, sputtering when drops from the steady leak above splashed a little too close. They were nowhere near enough to dispel the damp, heavy grey that seemed to have slipped in from outside to settle stubbornly in the corners. Next to the candles lay a steel tray cluttered with all the gleaming tools of a healer’s trade. A heating brazier stood in the corner, its dull red glow not contributing much light to the room. The main table had been pushed from the centre of the tent to make space, maps and parchment and quills lying abandoned.

No one was using the folding chairs stacked at the back of the tent. Sugawara crouched on the far side of the cot, glaring at the hand clasped in his like it had offended him. Azumane was sitting on a low stool next to him. Ushijima stood a little way away, stern and immovable as a mountain. Yaku’s arms were crossed across his chest, and the way his mouth was pursed did not bode well. Iwaizumi was sitting at the foot of the cot, deep lines creasing his forehead. And Bokuto, bright and laughing and it’ll-all-work-out-fine Bokuto, he stood like Yaku, looking blankly outside.

And the chest of the figure on the cot rose and fell and rose again, enough that Tetsurou could see it, and it was all that stopped him from trying to strangle one of the others for _not bloody looking at him_.

“ _Well?_ ” he said again. “Snap out of it and talk to me, one of you!”

“He got hit,” Yaku said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Not a weapon,” Iwaizumi said, finally turning to him. “A spell. And -” He broke off, looking hesitant.

“What?” Tetsurou said, with deliberate calm. None of them could afford to go to pieces, not right now - least of all him. “What did it do to him?”

Iwaizumi nodded to Suga, whose scowl deepened. He didn’t move.

“Suga,” Asahi said, quietly.

Sugawara stayed still for a second longer, then leaned forward and twitched the blanket aside. Tetsurou stepped closer, trying to see in the gloom -

\- and stopped short, dread crawling into his chest to settle tight around his ribs. Daichi’s right hand, dangling over the edge of the cot, was glittering in the faint candlelight. Little rainbows danced across the tent’s ceiling and hid in the valleys of his knuckles.

Tetsurou had only ever seen a glitter like that around the princess’s neck.

“How -” It came out as a croak. Tetsurou cleared his throat. “How far up does it go?”

Iwaizumi got up and stepped aside as Suga yanked the blanket half off of Daichi, and Tetsuou’s breath froze. The ice-bright shimmer had crawled up from his fingers to his elbow - and from the toes of his right foot to his right knee. Even as Tetsurou watched, he could see it creep a little bit higher, straining to reach the rolled-up hem of his pants.

Daichi’s eyes were closed, and his face was deathly pale.

“How long has he - ?”

“It’s been half an hour.” It was Azumane who answered, still in that quiet voice. His gaze never wavered from Daichi. “It’s speeding up.”

“And it’s -?”

“Diamond.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“What the _fuck_ kind of curse could -”

“We don’t know, but evidently one exists,” Suga snapped.

A damp, clinging silence settled like a cobweb, and Tetsurou closed his eyes tight, willing himself not to panic, willing himself to keep calm. Ushijima's gaze was heavy on him, he knew, but he couldn't quite bring himself to meet it.

“We cannot win this without Sawamura,” Ushijima said eventually, his deep voice not quite as steady as usual. “Even if he does not fight. We cannot lose him. The blow would be crippling to the morale of every soldier.”

“True enough,” Iwaizumi muttered.

“There’s only one way to save him,” Yaku said.

“Yes. It must be done.”

“Over my dead body,” Sugawara said, and his voice was deathly cold. “I will not allow it. There has to be another way.”

Tetsurou went very still as he realized what they were saying. _They - they want to -_

“We do not have the magic, Sugawara-san. If we were back at the palace, if we had Shimizu-san, it might have been a different matter. But we are not, and we do not, and I will not stand by while the life drains out of our commander, while he turns into a diamond statue before our very eyes.”

The statement was like a slap. Both Sugawara and Tetsurou flinched.

“I refuse to accept that the only solution is -”

“Why? Out of sentiment? Sorrow? Anger? None of those will save Sawamura’s life, Sugawara-san. Please try to understand -”

“Bokuto-san,” Sugawara called out, cutting him off. “Ushijima here is saying that not wanting to cut off Daichi’s arm and leg is _sentimental_. Do you agree?”

Boktuo’s gaze flashed to him, stricken. Tetsurou knew he was thinking back to lively, laughing afternoons spent in sweaty competition with Daichi; wrestling with him, sparring with him, besting him at archery and being bested by him with the axe.

“I . . . Sugawara, I have to. If it’s his life versus -”

“No!” And Sugawara was suddenly furious. “Daichi lives and breathes when he’s in action, you all know that! What would you give him? A wooden leg? A wooden arm? Condemn him to being a cripple?”

“Yes!” Ushijima was losing patience as well. “Because we would like him to continue to live and breathe, Sugawara!”  
  
“It would be a half-life! He’d be a shadow of who he was! If death on the battlefield is what he is destined for, then I know he’d want -”

“He isn’t on the battlefield,” Iwaizumi said carefully. “He’s dying in front of our eyes.”

“ _Because of a battle wound!_ Kuroo-san, please -” Sugawara’s eyes were turned to him, pleading. Tetsurou thought he could see the start of tears. “Please, you know what I’m saying is true, you know what it would do to him!”

“I - I do.” Tetsurou went to kneel beside the cot, laying a gentle hand on Daichi’s brow. There wasn’t so much as a flicker of an eyelid in response, and his heart howled inside him at the pain. “I do. He would . . .”

“He’d never be the same, would he?”

“No. No, but -”

\- _if it's the only way, then -_

“Enough of this,” Ushijima said. “We do not have the time to argue. This halt in the fighting will not last longer than it takes us to get our wounded off the field, and Sawamura must be seen back on his horse when it ends. He is strong. He will recover. And this is not a decision we make for his wellbeing. This is a decision we make for this army, for this country - as he would want us to do. The Eagle regiment votes that we amputate.”

“As do the Owls,” Bokuto murmured, looking at the floor.

“The Crows vote no,” Sugawara said, tears in his eyes. “Don’t we, Asahi?”

Azumane sat stone still in the flickering light, and said nothing.

“Asahi!”

He looked up. “What do the Vines vote?”

“I vote in Oikawa’s stead,” Iwaizumi says. “And I side with the Eagles and the Owls.”

A faint smile settled on Asahi’s mouth as he turned to Sugawara. “We’re already outvoted, then.”

“The Cats - the Swans - “ Sugawara said desperately.

“It would be a stalemate even if they voted with us. Suga, look at him.”

They all looked, even Bokuto, and the same shadow of pain flitted across all their faces.

“The diamond has reached past his elbow. We don’t have time to waste.”

“You’re siding with them?”

“I have to, now. And so do you.”

“It is decided,” Ushijima said. “Yaku-san, if you please.”

Yaku bowed his head briefly, and selected a knife from the steel tray that resembled nothing so much as a cleaver. “Could someone go fetch Shibayama?” he asked as he lowered the blade into the brazier, edge-first. “I need someone to take away the pain.”

Tetsurou covered his mouth with a hand, certain for a moment he’d be sick.

_No, please - Daichi -_

“No!” Sugawara snarled, tears now coursing down his face. He yanked a dagger from his belt. “The first person to touch him will regret it, I’m warning you!”

“Enough, Sugawara!” Ushijima roared, his temper truly lost.

“You can’t do this, Suga,” Azumane said, and Tetsurou had never heard him sound so stern. “You know that. Once a vote’s been cast -”

“I’ll get Shibayama,” Bokuto said quickly, and Tetsurou heard him sniff as he left the tent, as the argument escalated.

“ - can’t believe you’d side with -”

“He’s my friend too! And I want him _alive_ -”

“At what cost?!”

“It’s the only thing that’ll save him! Yaku-san will do it cleanly, and -”

“ _Ushijima, get away from him!_ ”

Tetsurou stared at Daichi’s arm, the sparkle of the diamond blurring as tears crept into his eyes, as he tried to think. No, he didn’t want Daichi to be a cripple. No, he didn’t want to lose this war. No, he didn’t want him to die. Then what was the way out? They didn’t have enough magic, they didn’t have any other options, they didn’t have _time_ , the cold, cold diamond was crawling up his arm so fast -

“You need to let me do my job, Suga-san, please -”

“ - understand he’s your friend, he means a lot to all of us, but we can’t put his life above the lives of everyone who died out there today! It would be an insult, do you understand me? We cannot lose now, we cannot waste their lives, and we _will_ lose if he doesn’t come out of this tent alive!”

“Suga, put the dagger away, please -”

Tetsurou wanted to cover his ears and block it all out, all the venom being spit at each other by Daichi’s friends, his comrades, while he lay dying - _dying -_ gods, he had to _think -_

“ - the best we can do, we can’t just wish him better, you know we’re right -”

“Shut up, all of you! None of you care about -”

“Don’t you dare say I don’t care about him, Suga! We all do!”

“Ushijima-san, Iwaizumi-san, if it reaches or crosses his shoulder, it’ll be that much harder for me to amputate - and I need to do it before it reaches his hip, too, or I’ll have to cut out so much more -”

_We can’t just wish him better._

And finally, finally, the frantic higher gear his brain had been kicked into spat out an idea.

“Everybody shut up!” he yelled.

A ringing silence descended as he stood and drew a deep breath.

“Yaku-san, hold off for a minute,” he said, the words flying off his tongue. “All of you, stay here. I know something that can help him, that can stop this. It’ll only take a minute to confirm, and it won’t reach his joints before that - so stay here, don’t cut him up, and don’t cut each other’s throats.”

He ducked out of the tent without waiting for a reply and hurried to the dark, sharp trees lining the camp. The rain was thundering down now, hammering on the back of his skull. No metal, no metal - his heavy leather-padded cloak landed in the mud, followed by the chainmail shirt he wore underneath. His belt was ripped off, dagger and sword clattering to the ground behind him. Gauntlets, greaves, even the small steel ring he wore in one ear, it was all tossed aside as he reached the line of trees.

The ground sloped more steeply here, for they’d camped on high ground, and he struggled not to slip as he headed down. Mud-spattered and drenched and desperate, he clung a tree a little way down and yelled, “Kenma!”

His voice was muted, drowned out by the rain.

“Kenma!”

Thunder growled overhead, and it felt like a physical pressure bearing down on him. He couldn’t see more than two feet ahead of him, the rain was so heavy. Everything was grey, heavy, leaden, hopeless -

_No!_

“ _Kenma!_ Show up, goddamn it! You swore -”

There was a flash of light, blinding in the gloom. Tetsurou ducked behind an arm, blinking black spots out of his eyes.

“I know what I swore, Kuro,” an unimpressed voice said. It was quiet, almost a murmur, yet Tetsurou heard it clearly over the rain. “What is it?”

Kenma stood in front of him, an eyebrow raised. He wore the usual red and black yukata, his hair tied back in a long ponytail. The soft radiance of his skin lightened the darkness, his eyes almost luminous, and he hovered just above the ground, at Tetsurou’s eye level.

“My third wish,” Tetsurou gasped with relief. “I need it right now.”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“There’s someone dying back there, I need you to save him. Come on -”

Kenma floated alongside him as he scrambled back up, looking mildly curious. The rain fell around them, now, not on them, and Tetsurou felt his clothes begin to steam dry. “You’re using this on someone else?”

“Yes.” A low branch slapped Tetsurou across the face, and he spat wet leaves.

“You do realize this is the last one, yes? I will not come if you call again.”

“I know, I know.”

“And you understand exactly what I am capable of doing?”

Tetsurou spared him a glance out of the corner of his eye as they emerged from the trees, a brief smile touching his mouth. “I should hope so, after all these years.”

Kenma frowned a little. “You could ask me to win this war for you, but you ask for the life of one man?”

“We can’t win this with magic, Kenma -”

“Why? The other side seemed to have no problem using it on . . . Sawamura, is that his name?”

For a second, the only sound was of Tetsurou’s boots squelching in the mud.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised, should I? You always know everything.”

Kenma snorted softly. “I wouldn’t be what I am if I didn’t.”

“Throwing spells around is one thing, but you could kill them all with a snap of your fingers. We can’t win with magic - with _your_ magic. They’ll cry foul, and we will never get our treaty.”

“I see.”

Tetsurou smiled again. “No, you don’t. But it’s fine. He’s in here -”

Kenma stopped several feet short of the entrance to the tent, looking like he’d bitten into rotten fruit. “Iron,” he said.

“Right, yeah, one second -”

Tetsurou ducked his head inside. Sugawara and Iwaizumi were screaming in each other’s faces over Daichi’s chest, Azumane and Bokuto were trying to hold them back, and Ushijima was talking to a grim Yaku and a nervous Shibayama in the corner. None of them glanced at him.

Tetsurou saw, with a pang of bitter fear, that the diamond was almost at Daichi’s shoulder, and it turned his voice into a roar.

“Everyone shut up _now!_ ”

They did, turning to look at him with varying expressions of shock, uncertainty, and relief.

“Out,” he snapped. “And take every goddamn bit of metal in this place out with you.”

“What -”

“How did you - “

“Why should we -”

“We don’t have the time to bloody argue! Do it _now_ or watch him die!”

That did it. They grabbed their gear and hurried out, Tetsurou holding the entrance flap open for them. When the last one - Sugawara - was out, he nodded to Kenma, who floated closer.

“You’re sure?” he asked for the last time, his bright eyes burning through Tetsurou’s.

Tetsurou nodded, not trusting his voice. “Just get him out of this alive,” he whispered. “Alive and as well as you can make him.”

Kenma went inside without another word. Tetsurou’s legs gently folded under him, and he sat in the mud right there, spine curved low with nervous and desperate hope, guarding the entrance as his clothes began to soak through once more. The others moved to stand in a half-circle a respectful distance away. None of them could have seen Kenma, Tetsurou knew, but more than one of them had felt power like this before in these mountains.

And they waited as light flared inside the tent, bright enough to make the rain disappear.

***

“Captain Michimiya Yui!”

Tetsurou took a step forward as Michimiya climbed up the steps in front of him, her helmet tucked under an arm. She knelt on the stage, head bowed, and the princess touched her gently on each shoulder with her fan. 

“For exceptional military service and efforts in caring for the wounded,” the princess said in her soft voice, “The Order of the Red Crow is bestowed upon Captain Michimiya Yui. Please rise, captain.”

Michimiya rose to thunderous applause, smiling, and bowed to the princess before going to stand beside Ushijima at the back of the stage.

“Captain Kuroo Tetsurou!”

Tetsurou mounted the steps, remembering just in time to whip his helmet off. He gave the princess a wink as he knelt, and Shimizu glared at him over her shoulder as she giggled softly before clearing her throat.

“For executing daring strategy and capturing the entire west flank of the enemy, as well as saving the life of Commander Sawamura Daichi, the Order of the Red Crow is bestowed upon Captain Kuroo Tetsurou. You may rise, captain.”

“Thank you, Princess Hitoka,” he murmured as he got to his feet. She smiled up at him, her hair glowing in the evening sunlight. Behind her, Shimizu’s hand drifted suggestively to the hilt of her sword.

Tetsurou hastily moved to the back of the stage. Daichi stared straight ahead as Tetsurou stood next to him, standing at perfect attention. Only the slightest quiver showed at the corner of his mouth when Tetsurou reached out to lightly brush his fingertips across the backs of his knuckles.

Later, after the ceremony, Tetsurou found him in one of the huge stone corridors that riddled the castle, one that led to the palace gardens. At the far end, golden sunlight slanted from a corner of the archway to the wall opposite, and the polished flagstones gleamed in a bright triangle sliced neatly across the floor. Motes of dust floated in the cool air, pinpoints of lazy motion in the light, and tumbling falls of tumbling pink and white bougainvillaea rustled in the garden outside as the breeze swept past them.

Daichi was leaning against the wall in the shadow of the archway, just out of the sunlight. Tetsurou walked to him without a sound, bending to rest his chin on his shoulder with a quiet sigh.

“Hi,” Daichi said, a smile in his voice, and turned to press his mouth briefly to Tetsurou’s temple.

“Hi,” Tetsurou said, slipping an arm around his waist. “Hiding?”

“Just needed some time to myself.”

“Should I leave?”

Daichi put a hand over Tetsurou’s, leaning back against him. It held the crumpled glove of his other hand. “Don’t be silly.”

They were quiet for a moment or two before Daichi stretched his right hand out in front of him, into the sun. Tetsurou shut his eyes as the light exploded into a blaze of white fire.

“I’m still not really used to this,” Daichi said, quietly.

“Is it heavy?”

“Less heavy than I expected. It’s cold, though.”

Tetsurou peeked out from one eye, squinting through his eyelashes. Daichi’s hand was stunning, dazzling crystal radiance purer than anything he’d ever seen. He rotated his sparkling wrist slowly, and flashing rainbows danced across the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the bougainvillaea.

“At least you’ll save on candles.”

Daichi laughed and turned to face him, both of them leaning with one shoulder against the wall, Daichi still in the circle of his arm.

“True,” he said. “Plus the wedding ring. I just need to chip off the tip of a finger or something -”

Tetsurou grinned at him, warm affection filling his heart. “One, what the hell are you going to break diamond with; two, you’re not breaking off any body parts just for a ring; and three, that’s not fair, that means you don’t have to pay for a ring while I do, so -”

“It doesn’t hurt, though! And I could use a toe or something, no one needs toes -”

“Sawamura Daichi, if you dare give me a wedding ring with your _toe_ in it -”

“No, it’ll be a wedding ring with the biggest damn diamond in the world in it -”

Tetsurou shut him up by bending and kissing him firmly. Daichi accepted this without a murmur, gently settling his hands on Tetsurou’s cheeks to hold him steady - one hand warm and soft and alive, the other cold and hard and unyielding.

Tetsurou grasped his normal wrist as they broke apart, stroking it lightly with his thumb. “We never found the time to speak properly, after the battle,” he said.

“We didn’t, no.”

“How do you feel, about -” Tetsurou turned his head, nudging his nose into the diamond palm.

“It’s . . . it’s weird, to be honest. But I think I’ll get used to it. It won’t take long to learn to live with it. And you? How do you feel about it?”

The question was hesitant. Tetsurou remembered how he’d looked stepping out of the tent on that grey, grey afternoon, exhausted and confused and aching but with determination as hard as that damn diamond in his eyes. He remembered Kenma’s last, fading whisper of apology that he’d only been able to arrest the spell and remove it, not reverse its effects, and how not a hint of that regret had shown in Daichi’s face when he’d rallied their troops for the last battle. He remembered standing by to capture the flank of the enemy army and seeing, from the hillside, a distant Daichi’s arm sparkling as he’d led the vanguard in a sweep into the centre. He remembered how easily Daichi had ripped off his sleeve before the charge so everyone could see what he’d survived, how fierce he’d looked as diamond had gripped steel and brought it down in the first strike, how fierce Tetsurou’s own joy had been as he’d yelled for his own soldiers to charge.

“It’s a battle wound,” he said, softly. “It’s a badge of honour. It’s part of you, now, and that’s all I need to accept it.”

Daichi was the one to kiss him this time, harder than before, and Tetsurou was more than happy to yield. They stood in lengthening shadow, sheltered by cool stone, and allowed themselves to indulge in time otherwise snatched in brief seconds between meetings, before training, in soft whispers before tired sleep.

Daichi’s sigh of content as he pulled Tetsurou closer took up a significant part of his pleasantly hazy thoughts, but he managed to register the growing sound of mingled voices and footsteps far behind them, crossing the main corridor.

“That’ll be the princess and the rest,” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away. “We need to attend the banquet, they’ll notice if we aren’t -” Daichi pressed a kiss to exactly the right spot behind his jaw, and he faltered. “If we aren’t . . .”

“We have time,” Daichi said. “Hitoka-san owes us this, and she knows it. She’ll cover for us.”

“Are you sure she’ll - ?”

“Tetsu, shut up and kiss me.”

And there was no disobeying that tone of voice, so he gave in and kissed him as fallen bougainvillaea was set dancing around their feet by the breeze. This is what he fought for, Tetsurou thought. Not for truth, not for glory, not for justice, not even for his princess. He fought for moments like this, moments of golden, quiet happiness that settled in his chest and kept him warm on the coldest of nights. He fought so that every person in Hitoka’s kingdom got to have moments like this, so that every single one of them could live in content like this.

So that every single one of them could search for - and find - a love like this. Unbreakable, and untouchable.

He let Daichi decide when they needed to leave, and even then they walked slowly, taking their time. Daichi’s diamond hand was wrapped around Tetsurou’s upper arm, sheathed once more in its glove, and his other hand was tucked cosily into his elbow.

“Tetsu?” Daichi said eventually.

“Hm?”

“I never asked . . . how did you save me?”

“Oh.” They’d never had the time to talk about it, he realized. “You don’t remember anything?”

“No. Everything between being hit with the spell and waking up in the tent is a blank. Suga said there was magic, and I think I heard something like . . .” He frowned a little. “Something like shrine bells? But nothing else.”

“Well, shrine bells would make sense," Tetsurou said, smiling to himself. "I asked Kenma to save you.”

Daichi stopped dead, sudden enough that his hands were tugged out of Tetsurou’s arm.

“You _what_?”

Tetsurou turned to him with a quizzical look. “I asked Kenma to save you.”

“You asked - you asked Kenma for this? For me?”

“Of course, what else could we have done?”

“But -” Daichi stared at him like he couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s - he’s - it’s the kind of power most people don’t find in _lifetimes_ , Tetsu.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“You asked him to heal a plague, to move mountains, and - _me_?”

“ _Yes_ , Dai,” he said, trying not to smile at his expression.

“What if - after he healed me - we were losing, our soldiers were dying? We might have needed - or what if something happens that we can’t predict? What if something happens to Hitoka-san, or we -”

Tetsurou stepped closer to him, cradling his face in his hands. “The only way we would have lost is if you hadn’t stepped out of that tent alive. We all need you. _I_ need you - god, I need you. I don’t think anyone would have blamed me even if I’d used the wish for myself.”

Dark eyes stared back at him, still full of shock. “But you did -”

“No, I saved you and I saved our army, so we could do what our princess had ordered us to do.”

“But what if -”

“Dai, we can’t plan for all the what ifs in the world, and we can’t afford to depend on a power like Kenma’s to save us from trouble. This city might get washed away tomorrow, or there might be another plague, or we might go to war again. People survive. People recover. I was granted more power than any one person should have, and I think - no, I _know_ I used it well. It’s gone now, and we’ll make it through whatever comes next however we can.”

He pulled Daichi’s hand into his arm again, gently tugging him along. Daichi walked beside him without another protest, but a frown still pulled his brows downward.

“Still, it was no small power to lose,” he said. “Making that decision couldn’t have been easy. And Kenma was a friend.”

“He was,” Tetsurou replied. “I’m sure he’ll turn up again at some point, even if he can’t help me anymore. And of course it was an easy decision, I made it in a heartbeat. You would have done the same for me, Dai.”

He glanced down, and Daichi’s cheeks were dusted pink as he opened his mouth to deny it before shutting it again. Tetsurou, grinning with tender fondness, dropped a kiss on top of his head.

“It’s a curse to be so honest, isn’t it,” he said, and Daichi’s fingers pinched the soft inside of his arm.

They had almost reached the end of the corridor in silence when Daichi said, in a small, careful voice, “Tetsu?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever feel like - like ‘I love you’ isn't enough to hold all the - all the feelings you want to put into it?”

It felt like he’d taken hold of Tetsurou’s heart and squeezed it tight.

“All the time,” he said, and he couldn't quite keep his voice steady. “God, every single day.”

Daichi pressed his mouth to Tetsurou’s shoulder, slow and firm and lingering, and this time Tetsurou was the one to stop walking.

“Hey,” he said softly. Daichi raised tear-filled eyes to his, and it felt like his heart had been neatly nipped out of his chest.

“Oh - hey, come here . . . “

Tetsurou slipped his arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight as he buried his face in Tetsurou’s neck. They stood there for a minute or two, swaying a little on the spot as Tetsurou carded his fingers through Daichi’s hair and held him close.

“Thank you,” he said into Tetsurou’s shirt.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tetsurou said, kissing his head.

“I love you, Tetsu.”

“I know, Dai. I love you too.”

Daichi sniffled and pulled back to look at him. “You utter and complete _asshole_ ,” he said, and Tetsurou laughed, his heart settling back into place.

“I think you put all your feelings into those particular words pretty well,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket.

Daichi chuckled in a watery kind of way, taking the handkerchief and wiping his nose. “I did, didn’t I.”

“Mhmm. Clean up and let’s go, yeah? They’re definitely waiting for us by now. Azumane or Suga probably have a death warrant out for me.”

“It’s weird when you’re the responsible one.” Daichi tucked the handkerchief back into Tetsurou’s pocket, giving him a teasing look when he wrinkled his nose.  
  
“And it’s weird when you’re the gross one.” He reached down to hold Daichi’s hand, starting to walk again. “Let’s go, Commander.”

Daichi squeezed his hand gently, and his smile was as good as a kiss.  
  
“Let’s go, Captain,” he said, and as they headed to their banquet - to their friends, their comrades, and their princess - the grey afternoon was left behind, fading into distant memory in the face of the sparkle of diamond in their future.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always very very much appreciated :3 I hope you liked it! You can find me [here](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [here](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) on Twitter just to chat or for commission info!


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